by Erin Johnson
Russo pointed a shaking finger at a spot on the ground. I saw nothing but rough wooden planks, a net, and a few iron-bound barrels. The boards creaked under us as the ship shifted, and footsteps thunked overhead.
“Tell us what you saw, son.” The chief crossed his arms over his broad chest. The man, despite probably being in his seventies, was still handsome and commanding, in a stern, don’t cross him sort of way.
Russo, with blood still caked to his forehead, frowned. “I—I saw the ghost of the pirate captain. I didn’t see who he got; it was dark, and my glasses got all fogged up.”
The fiery lantern that swung from an overhead rafter cast his eyes in pools of shadow, making the whole thing a lot spookier.
One of the officers who’d been hazing him earlier at the bar nudged his buddy and they grinned at each other. I frowned. What was that all about?
Inspector Bon shoved through the semicircle of officers and stumbled into the middle. “What do you mean ‘ghost’?”
Chief Taylor scowled at Bon—a look that would’ve had me soiling myself if it’d been directed at me. It only made me like the man more—for his treatment of Bon, not the whole death stare thing.
“I’ve got this, Bon,” he growled. The “back off” was implied.
Bon gulped, his ears burning bright red, and he ducked his head as he backed up but didn’t quite leave the center of the circle. “Sure, Chief. Sure.”
Taylor swiveled his intense gaze back to the trembling Russo. “Let’s try this again, son, slower. What were you doing down here?”
His gaze flicked to the two buzzcuts who’d been messing with him at the bar, then down to his feet. “I uh—I was just curious… what was down here.”
Chief Taylor frowned and Daisy, who stood between Peter and me, growled.
He’s lying.
I rolled my eyes. Doi. I didn’t need a truth-sniffing dog to tell me that. The kid looked shifty as shell.
“Then what happened?” Chief Taylor prompted.
Russo’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I uh—I saw movement, over here, so I called out. But no one answered.”
Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t think to get your partner?”
Russo shook his head. “I—I wasn’t sure anything was the matter. So I—I went to check it out, alone. And as I got closer, I saw the ghost captain. He was glowing and had a beard and a hat and a hook for a hand—”
The words tumbled out of his mouth, his breaths becoming quick pants. “I didn’t see who the officer was, but I recognized the uniform. The ghost captain swung at him with his hooked hand and stabbed him in his—neck…” Russo paled and clutched at his own throat.
Daisy wagged her tail and whined. He’s telling the truth.
Peter, who’d also glanced down at her, looked up and our eyes met. Russo was telling the truth? He’d really seen a ghost pirate captain kill another officer? I flashed my eyes at Peter. This was getting weird… and juicy.
“And then, I suppose, the ghost came after you?” Chief Taylor’s eyes darted to the blood caked to Russo’s forehead.
“Huh? Oh.” Russo lightly touched his hairline and winced. “No… I, uh…” He ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck. “I fainted and must’ve hit my head on the floor.”
The buzzcuts snickered, and Taylor shot them a heavy glance that silenced them immediately. He gripped Russo’s shoulder. “I believe you, son. I believe that you think you know what you saw, but if the ghost captain killed an officer right here, where’s the body? Or the blood, for that matter?”
Russo shook his head and turned this way and that, shining his lit wand at the ground. “Maybe… maybe the ghost cleaned it up? And moved the body?” He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m telling you it’s what I saw!” He pleaded with the chief to believe him.
Taylor pressed his eyes shut and threw an arm around Russo’s shoulders. “Alright, son, alright. We’ve all had a lot to drink tonight, and maybe the stress of—”
Screams sounded from above, and I tilted my head back to look at the low ceiling. Dim light shone through the cracks, and I spotted pinpoints of light, stars, far above. Footsteps thudded across the deck, and more screams sounded.
Peter and I exchanged wide-eyed looks and tore toward the stairwell that led back up to the deck. Daisy bounded ahead, barking. The rest of the officers clambered behind us.
DEAD IN THE WATER
Feet in polished black shoes and heels thudded across the rough wooden planks of the deck as I emerged from the trap door. I looked around at the chaos, the sea breeze blowing curled tendrils away from my face.
“There!” A mustached man in a tuxedo stood at the railing and pointed at the water down below. Officers rushed to join him, and Peter, Daisy, and I followed suit. I jostled my way through the tightly packed line of bodies at the railing, and Peter and I peered over into the water a couple of stories below.
It was a dark night, the moon partially obscured by clouds, but a dark shape bobbed a little way out from the hull.
“Do you see it?” The same guy pointed again.
I squinted, trying to make out what it was. A seal maybe? The clouds parted and moonlight scattered across the water illuminating—a body.
A woman beside me shrieked and spun away, her date taking her in his arms. A moment later, Chief Jack Taylor pushed his way through, gripped the railing, and leaned over. A muscle in his jaw jumped and he turned around, spreading his arms wide.
“Alright, everyone back. Now!”
His gravelly voice held authority, and everyone, Peter and I included, backed away.
“What is it?” a woman with a deep voice cried.
I turned as the jazz singer, the one I’d seen crying in the bathroom earlier, pushed through the double doors from the ballroom. Light spilled out behind her and the moonlight caught the white sparkles of her dress, lighting her up.
Her chest heaved. “What’s everyone looking at?”
Chief Taylor nodded at an officer nearby, who stepped forward and ushered the singer back. “Police business, ma’am, please stay away from the railing.”
“Why?” The whites surrounded her dark eyes.
“Oh goddess! It’s him—it’s Dylan!”
I turned to my left. On the upper deck, Davies’s date slumped, and two men in uniform dove to catch her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she threw a hand to her forehead.
Peter and I exchanged wide-eyed looks. Davies was the body in the water?
“No!” The singer shrugged off the officer who’d escorted her back and rushed to the railing. She sucked in a shuddering gasp when she spotted the body and then rocked back, holding the wooden rail, and launched herself over the side.
“Holy crab,” I muttered, frozen. Had I just seen what I thought I’d seen? I needed to lay off the drinks for the rest of the night.
“Snakes!” Chief Taylor cursed, teeth gritted.
The crowd rushed forward to the railing, morbidly curious I guessed, to see the second body. But instead, a deep purple fin dipped below the waves, and a few moments later the singer appeared next to Davies. He floated facedown in the water, his blond hair soaked. She slid an arm across his chest, rolling him to his back, and kicked back toward the ship. Her purple iridescent scales shimmered just below the surface of the dark water.
I raised my brows. “She’s a mermaid.”
Beside me, Peter blew out a breath. “I thought we were going to have two bodies to fish out of the sea tonight.” He dragged a hand slowly down his face, bags below his eyes.
I grimaced. Yeah… this was probably not turning out to be the best policeman’s ball ever.
Chief Taylor, his eyes on the mermaid and the officer below, barked out an order. “Lower down a rowboat.”
Several officers jumped to obey. The pulley squeaked as the rowboat was lowered. It knocked against the side of the ship on the way down and finally settled onto the gently churning sea.
The singer gripped the edge of
the boat and hauled herself into it, her shimmering tail taking up most of the space. She then reached over and hugged Davies to her chest, leaning back to drag him in behind her.
Officers used the pulleys to haul them back up, and once the boat reached the edge of the railing, a dozen officers rushed forward. Several grabbed Davies and laid him out on the deck, while a few others helped the singer out. She magically transformed back to being human and dropped down beside Davies, sobbing. She shook his pale, limp body, and his head rolled over so that I could see his face. His unseeing eyes stared blankly up at the night sky.
“He’s dead!” she sobbed.
Gasps rose from the crowd.
“Alright, alright, nothin’ to see here. Back it up.” Inspector Bon stepped forward, palms out. “Move along, folks, police business.”
Another officer frowned at him. “We are the police.”
Bon’s eyes widened for a moment, then he scowled. “Well… back up anyway.”
Chief Taylor shot the inspector a hard look, and Bon’s big ears reddened.
“I’ll uh—just—check on something over here.” Bon edged away from the chief and I barely bit back a grin.
The blond, Davies’s date, staggered up, half supported by an officer on each side of her. Mascara streaked down her cheeks and her lips curled back, her face contorted with anger. “Get away from him!”
The singer glanced up at her, glaring, then went back to crying over Davies’s body.
The blond pointed a trembling hand at the mermaid singer and looked around at the watching crowd. “She’s probably the one who drowned him anyway!”
10
PARTY'S OVER
I grimaced and leaned closer to Peter. “This is getting juicy.”
He shot me an uncertain look, and I attempted to look sober. “I mean… so sad.” I swung my attention back to the melodrama unfolding in front of me.
The blond, Davies’s date, staggered forward into the little clearing around the body.
“Nanka….” One of the officers tried to coax her back, but she shrugged him off.
Nanka pointed at the sopping wet singer who still crouched beside Davies and addressed the crowd at large. “I saw her and Dylan arguing earlier tonight!”
The singer rolled her red eyes and dragged herself to her feet. She raised a brow at Nanka. “And why would I jump overboard to save him if I’d just killed him? Hm?” She stuck a hip out and shot the blond a challenging look. “Besides, you must’ve been mistaken. You need to get your eyes checked.”
Nanka sniffed. “Hardly. I know what I saw.”
Bon stepped forward, waving his hands over the body. “This is a crime scene, and until further notice there is to be no—”
Chief Taylor cleared his throat, and Bon glanced at him. Taylor jerked his head to the side. “Stand down.”
Bon’s chest heaved, and he pressed his lips tight together but gave the chief a short nod and, again, backed up into the crowd. I grimaced. As much I enjoyed seeing Bon put in his place, this was just getting embarrassing. I frowned at myself. Whose side was I on, anyway? Bon had practically called me a fraud before!
Chief Taylor stepped forward, and the crowd quieted. His dark eyes looked out, scanning everyone present. When his gaze swept over me, I stepped closer to Peter, suddenly uneasy. It was like he could see right through me.
“Until we determine the cause of death, we’ll be asking questions of everyone present.”
“But, sir.” The rookie, Russo, stepped forward, one of the lenses of his glasses still cracked. “We already know the cause of death—it must have been the ghost captain!”
A mixture of snickers and gasps rose from the watching crowd. I glanced down at Daisy, who stood on Peter’s other side. Her tail wagged.
It’s true.
I shivered. Was there really a murderous pirate ghost on the loose?
Russo continued, his eyes big and round behind his thick glasses. “It’s true! I tell you, I saw the ghost pirate kill an officer with his hook. It must’ve been Davies!” He drug his finger across his throat.
Chief Taylor pointed down at the dead officer. “Son, Davies isn’t bloodied is he? Look at his throat.”
Russo blinked down at the body, then turned quickly away. “No.” His chest heaved. “That’s true.”
Chief Taylor raised his voice. “Anyone else see the ghost pirate tonight?”
We all looked around at each other, but no one spoke.
Chief Taylor clapped a hand on Russo’s shoulder. “You were probably the target of a prank, alright? We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He turned back to the crowd. “We’ll break into teams, interrogate all the witnesses. No one is to leave this ship until they’ve been cleared by another officer to go.”
I frowned, my tipsy brain struggling to keep up. “But who’s going to interrogate the officers? Half the people here are in uniform.” I scoffed, which earned me a couple of disapproving looks from two men in uniform who stood in front of me. I lowered my voice and turned to Peter. “Are we not going to acknowledge that another cop could’ve done it?”
He looked down at me. “I don’t disagree.” His expression softened, and a grin played at the corner of his mouth. “Want to help me make sure justice is done? We do make a pretty good team.”
I opened my mouth, unsure how I felt about that. On one hand, I’d loved that he called us a team and my natural snoopiness made me want to get to the bottom of this. But what if I had to ask questions of Zale or Eve or any of my former coworkers?
Bon shouldered his way back to the middle of the circle and stood over the distraught singer and Davies’s body. “And masks off, everybody.” He snapped his fingers a few times. “Pronto!” He ripped his own off and shoved it in his trousers pocket.
Come again? My heart pounded against my ribs as all around me partygoers removed their masks. I took a step back, looking for the exit. No way could mine come off.
Chief Taylor’s lip curled, and his cheeks flushed a shade of purple. “Have you forgotten that you’re not the commanding officer, Inspector Bon?”
The muttering around the group of officers and their dates quieted, and eyes dropped to the deck.
I grimaced. Yeesh. If I were Bon, I’d be quaking in my loafers right about now.
The inspector’s shoulders hunched up into his large ears, and he slowly backed out of the center, grumbling apologies as he went.
Chief Taylor sniffed and adjusted the neck of his uniform. He glared at the group of several hundred guests, his bushy brows casting his deepset eyes into even darker shadow. “Everyone, remove your masks!” His gravelly voice carried over the crowd. “Now!”
My stomach twisted. I was torn between smirking about the fact that he’d essentially said “ditto” to Bon’s order and absolute terror that I was about to be exposed and my worlds were about to collide.
Peter pulled his mask back over his head as everyone around me who still wore theirs followed suit. I took a step back, and Daisy’s penetrating gaze swiveled my way. I was at a party with people who knew the secret of my shifterhood, in the midst of a bunch of cops who I was trying to keep my secret from, and a dog who could sniff lies. Was this a nightmare? I pinched the back of my arm. Ow!
A crease formed between Peter’s brows as he watched me.
I scrunched my nose up in an exaggerated smile and waved a hand. “Mosquito.”
Daisy let out a low growl.
All around us, cops and guests dispersed, unmasked, and began to form small groups. Chatter and questioning filled the air, dampening the sound of the creaking ship and the lapping waves. A few officers escorted the teary singer away from Davies’s body and covered it with a heavy canvas tarp.
My heart thundered in my chest, and I sniffed, though my chest felt too tight to get a good breath. I looked around for a waiter with a tray of drinks. Where was a stiff potion when you needed it?
I thumbed over my shoulder and took another step back. “So, I was with
you all night, and you know I wasn’t involved, right?”
Confusion flashed over Peter’s features, but I ignored it and pressed on.
“So, I can just… skedaddle?”
Peter shifted on his feet. “You uh—you don’t want to help me question guests?” He pointed at my face. “You’ve still got your mask on.”
Yep, and that’s where it was staying. And normally, yes. I’d love to be in the thick of things with him. But considering how very badly this could turn out if I did….
I covered my mouth and pretended to yawn. “Aw, man, normally for sure, but I am beat.”
He lifted a thick brow. “You’re normally such a night owl.” His tone was playful, but he watched me intently.
My stomach lurched, and I chanced a glance around, as if someone might have overheard and known that I was, indeed, an owl shifter. I forced a smile, though my legs felt as wobbly as if I had sea legs.
Peter blinked and shook himself. “Oh, duh.” He scratched the back of his neck and stared down at his shoes. “Sorry, I didn’t even think about the pay aspect. Since this hasn’t officially been deemed a crime, I suppose I can’t officially hire you.” He lifted his eyes back to me and grinned. “But maybe there’s a seagull or a crab who saw something?” His eyes softened. “I’d appreciate your help on this one… and your company.”
Oh for sand’s sake, just stab me in the heart already. If he knew what a street rat I was, he’d never be looking at me with such kindness and… I bit my lip. And there was something else in that look, too… a wanting. I gulped and reminded myself that I had nothing to give.
“Heh.” I tried for a light chuckle. “Good one, yeah a seagull or—” My breath caught as the intimidating Chief Taylor, flanked by officers on either shoulder, moved toward us, his narrowed gaze sweeping the crowd. I had to get out of here before he forced me to take my mask off.